


A Humiliating Christmas

by pravenclaw



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Shipmas 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:26:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21719140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pravenclaw/pseuds/pravenclaw
Summary: Newt and Leta are spending Christmas at Hogwarts. But it's not easy when you're the school outcasts.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	A Humiliating Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> From LittleRose13's Shipmas 2019. Two prompts this time! 'Why do the gingerbread dragons look more like flobberworms?' & 'I know you didn't just stay at Hogwarts for the Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers.'

_Christmas Day, 1911_

‘Why do the gingerbread dragons look more like Flobberworms?’ whispered Newt.

Leta picked one up, giggling.

‘The house-elf who made this must’ve been blind,’ Leta whispered back. ‘It’s hideous.’

‘ _Unusual_ , not hideous… They could be wyverns, I suppose…’ said Newt, wondering out loud.

‘What are wyverns?’

‘They’re a little like dragons, only they – ’

‘ – Do you ever stop talking about beasts, boy?’ barked Professor Prendergast from across the table. Everyone stopped eating and turned to look at Newt, all smirking wickedly. ‘Not even at Christmas?’

Leta watched as Newt’s face fell. He shrank deep down into his chair, his eyes downcast.

‘Not even at Christmas, sir,’ mumbled Newt through an awkward smile. Leta glared over at Prendergast, pure fire and rage brewing up inside her. She felt like dumping what was left of her Christmas dinner over his head.

Prendergast glowered at Newt, muttering something to Professor Merrythought sat beside him, who failed to suppress a shrill laugh. Leta glared at her, too, wanting nothing more than for them to feel just a humiliated as Newt did.

Prendergast laughed and took a sip from his goblet. He threw it away suddenly, sending wine flying through the air. Prendergast was gasping for air; clutching at his throat, his body bent over the table. His already large eyes protruding, bulging out over the table, his face a deep shade of red. Everyone froze, staring at him as though petrified. Professor Merrythought reached over to help, but the leg on her chair suddenly snapped. Weighed down by her hefty bustle, she fell backwards onto the stone floor, screaming, her legs wildly kicking out, trying desperately to aright herself.

Professor Dumbledore cast down his cutlery and jumped to his feet, thumping Prendergast on the back a few times. After a few seconds of coughing and spluttering into a napkin, he settled down again. Prendergast’s face slowly went back to its usual pallid tone. He then reached down and helped the fallen Professor Merrythought to her feet. All along the table people clapped and cheered, congratulating Dumbledore on his heroics.

‘Yes, well done, Dumbledore,’ boomed Professor Black from the head of the table. ‘Quick thinking, indeed.’

‘Y-yes, thank you, Dumbledore,’ spluttered Prendergast. Professor Merrythought let out a casual laugh and thanked him too, but Leta sensed her humiliation. Good, she thought. Exactly what they both deserve.

Dumbledore smiled bashfully in response and retook his seat. Every now and then he’d glance over at Leta, who tried her hardest not to notice.

Leta tried to distract herself, but Newt was no longer in the mood for conversation, though she tried. He ate quickly and rose from the table before anyone else. He gave his excuses to Professor Black (who didn’t seem to care much) and rushed out of the Great Hall.

The table would occasionally erupt into cheers of laughter every time someone pulled a cracker. Mice ran across the table, bats drifted around the Hall like clouds, and two fifth-year boys pulled one and immediately grew large white beards much like Father Christmas’s.

As the feast drew to a close, Leta grabbed a handful of gingerbread dragons and stuffed them into her pocket. She also took the last remaining cracker, for Newt and herself.

As she left the Great Hall, Leta felt a hand on her shoulder.

‘No harm done this time, Leta,’ said Professor Dumbledore quietly.

Leta’s heart quickened. She spun around, blushing, looking up into Dumbledore’s piercing blue eyes.

‘I didn’t mean for it to happen, sir,’ she said, suddenly feeling very guilty and remorseful.

‘I don’t doubt it, Leta. Our emotions get the better of us sometimes, but we must all learn how to control them,’ said Dumbledore, his mouth hinting at a smile. ‘ _You_ must learn how to control them. We can’t have you lashing out like that again.’

‘I know, sir, but Professor Prendergast, he – ’ began Leta, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence her.

They both waited awkwardly while the other students and professors filtered out of the Great Hall, doffing their hats to Dumbledore as they passed. As the last student traipsed out and up the corridor, Dumbledore turned back to Leta.

‘Why do you spend every Christmas at Hogwarts, Leta?’ asked Dumbledore. Leta sensed a sincerity in his voice, a surprising warmth and gentleness.

‘I like it here, sir.’

Dumbledore chuckled and shook his head.

‘I know you don’t just stay at Hogwarts for the Cribbage’s Wizarding Crackers, as fun as they may be,’ he said, gesturing to the pocket in which she’d stuffed the gingerbread and cracker. ‘There are a whole host of reasons why people choose to spend Christmas here, after all. I wondered why you’re always the first to sign your name; I see you at that table year after year.’

Leta mused for a second, deliberating on what to say, carefully deciding what answer to give.

‘What about you, Professor?’ she said eventually.

‘What about me?’

‘Why do you spend every Christmas at Hogwarts, sir?’

Dumbledore laughed and bowed his head.

‘Run along, Leta. Find Newt. Make sure he’s all right. If I know him, he’ll be checking on the Bowtruckles right about now,’ he said, tapping the end of his crooked nose. ‘He thinks no one notices.’

Leta smiled falsely and turned to leave.

‘And Happy Christmas, Leta,’ said Dumbledore.

Leta thanked him raced down the corridor, leaving Dumbledore with his shrewd eyes and all his questions far behind her. Even a man like Professor Dumbledore, it seemed, could be as guarded as she was.


End file.
